"Roar!!"
The sound ripped through the air, primal and deafening. Even the charging Nights Cavalry froze mid-step, their momentum shattered. Eamon blinked, his spirit reeling as if struck. His upward slash faltered. A fraction of hesitation. Enough.
Throne descended. Blade and sword flashed in unison. Clang—
Two sparks erupted into the gloom.
Throne's eyes narrowed. The cavalryman had raised his Moon-Blade Halberd to block. Greyoll's roar was meant to weed out the weak, yet this one stood firm. Impressive. His knee drove upward, slamming into Eamon's faceplate with a metallic crack. The towering figure staggered back, using the momentum to escape Throne's reach.
Eamon sprang off the ground, launching himself forward, halberd thrusting straight at Throne. Whoosh—
The air itself seemed to scream. Though the halberd was longer, Throne struck first. Not with steel, but with raw magic—a beam of light erupting from his hand. Boom!
Eamon hurtled backward, his body crashing through wall after wall until he vanished into the distance. Throne slammed his foot down, surveying the dozens of Nights Cavalry surging toward him. He hurled his katana. Pfft. The blade plunged into the chest of the lead Omen, who kept running as if untouched. But Throne was already moving, meeting the incoming hammer head-on.
The Great Hammer of Haima swung down. BOOM!! The force swept the front ranks into an adjacent room, walls crumbling into dust, debris raining down. Throne glanced at the destruction. This castle won't last much longer. Rya was still upstairs. He couldn't afford to let this escalate.
Throne pivoted and vanished from the hall, reappearing outside the manor. From above, he saw Eamon struggling to his feet. The Nights Cavalry commander's breastplate smoked, his left chest charred and dissolving, revealing muscle beneath. Throne didn't wait. His left hand opened, summoning a millstone-sized Comet Azur. It crashed down, followed by the torrential magic of the Sword of Night and Flame. BOOM—RUMBLE! A pale ring expanded in the air before the ground erupted, dust and debris soaring skyward only to be shredded by the ensuing storm.
Throne gripped his sword with both hands, the blade alive with fiery light. To Eamon, it was blinding—a flower of flame blooming in the air, collapsing into a ball, then streaking down like a meteor. Eamon planted his feet, halberd raised high to meet it. Clang!!
The impact was deafening. Soldiers covered their ears, their charge faltering. The sword was blocked, but the flames engulfed Eamon, turning him into a ten-meter pillar of fire. His armor blackened, muscles charred. For the first time since the battle began, he spoke.
"Who… are you??"
Throne pressed down on the halberd with one hand, his left reaching for Eamon's searing faceplate.
"The one who is going to kill you."
Light erupted, tearing Eamon's torso apart. Throne didn't linger. He turned to face the remaining Nights Cavalry, now spilling from the manor.
With their commander dead, the soldiers formed a tight formation. Shield-bearers stepped forward, Omen fell in behind, crossbows leveled in a deadly line. A frontal assault would be suicide. But Throne wasn't just a knight. He smiled faintly, raising his hand.
"Gathering together saves me the effort."
Comet Azur rained down. Cannon of Haima roared. Meteor Shower erupted. Freezing Ground spread. Soldiers gazed upward as meteors streaked across the sky, meteorites hurtled past, and frost crawled beneath their feet. A split second of stunned silence—then light consumed them.
Rya clung to the chimney on the rooftop, her grip desperate, her body buffeted by the storm of destruction. Comet Azur crashed down in relentless succession. Shockwaves shattered windows, toppled walls, and the blinding flashes of exploding magic pulsed like a strobe. She couldn't fathom the carnage at the heart of the blasts.
In the distance, she glimpsed the man—his left hand weaving through the air, hurling one devastating spell after another as if they cost nothing. Finally, Melina's warning echoed in her mind: "Stay away from him once the battle starts. When he loses control, no one can stop him."
Throne unleashed death until silence reigned, then lowered his hand.
He inhaled the scorched air, his eyes narrowing. Thirty-eight lives. Morgott, is this greeting gift enough?
Throne and Morgott had never met. The demigod didn't even know his name, yet Throne had sent a grand offering from afar. Volcano Manor lay tilted, its grounds pockmarked with craters, twisted corpses strewn like broken dolls. Piecing one together would be impossible.
"Seems the Tarnished is gentler than I am," Throne muttered with a bitter laugh.
Flames licked at the castle, feeding on its grandeur. Where the Tarnished went, bosses fell. Throne? He'd leveled Volcano Manor. This was just the beginning. The true clash of forces raged deep within the volcano, lava surging upward, tinged with a faint golden glow—some incantation at work. Even a clone wielded power far beyond Melina's.
"An order of magnitude stronger than Mohg's clone," Throne mused. "Is this the strength of a true demigod, or just common practice?"
He pondered briefly. No wonder Radahn feared Morgott. No wonder he'd held Leyndell against all odds. Throne sheathed the Moon-Blade Halberd and turned to leave. After a few steps, he paused, tapped his head, then leapt lightly onto the tilted manor's roof.
There, he found Rya—hugging the chimney, trembling violently. The girl looked pitifully small, weak, and alone, battered by the aftermath of the battle, barely clinging to life. When she saw Throne, she instinctively let go of the chimney and tumbled down the eaves.
Throne caught her by the collar, steadying himself on the slanted roof. The sound of splintering wood echoed below. He tucked Rya under his arm and leapt with all his might. The manor collapsed behind them in a thunderous roar, reduced to a smoldering ruin.
Amid the rubble and sparks, it was hard to believe this had once been a demigod's residence. Rya stared blankly, then suddenly turned and flung her arms around Throne, bursting into tears. Her sobs carried sorrow, fear, and a flicker of relief.
Throne froze, bewildered. It took him a moment to react before he slowly raised a hand to pat her back. He wasn't used to this. Those around him were dignified, powerful, unshakable. He'd never heard crying like this before. But then again, in The Lands Between, such ordinariness was rare—and precious.
There were too many people forced to be strong because of suffering; wanting to be an ordinary person was actually difficult.
"Alright, alright. Out with the old, in with the new. I've even demolished the Volcano Manor, so you don't need to be attached to it anymore."
Throne held the girl, using his hands to cup her slightly chubby cheeks, and met her gaze.
"People always have to move forward in life. The past is gone, just look ahead."
With no way back, what else could she do but move forward? Rya nodded gently. She felt that the hands on her cheeks should have been cold, but for some reason, she felt warmth. She came to her senses, her cheeks flushed, and then she hurriedly took half a step back.
"I am terribly sorry, I… I shouldn't have done that. Please don't take it to heart."
"Everyone has times of pain. What matters is what you can learn from that pain."
"Do you cry too?"
"Hahaha, I prefer making others cry."
Throne ruffled Rya's blonde hair, feeling she was just a child, and then slowly backed away.
"Find a place to hide. I'll be back soon."
"Yes."
Rya was like a child, but not a brat. She shook her little head, immediately spotted a cave, and ran over in a panic. She then turned back, wanting to pick up the Omen's crooked axe for self-defense, but couldn't lift it at all. Seeing Throne looking at her with a half-smile, her little face turned red. She hurriedly picked up a few stones, clutched them to her chest, and headed toward the cave.
This girl is even more ditsy than Melina. Throne almost couldn't keep a straight face. Thinking of the bitter battle ahead, he became serious again. Just as he walked a few steps, he heard a shout from behind.
"Lord Throne, please, please come back quickly. I will still be praying for you!"
So, who exactly are you praying to? Throne was too exhausted to retort. He said nothing, simply raised his hand above his head and clenched his fist hard. Don't worry, I'll be back soon. He walked to the center of the ruins. The entrance to the depths of the volcano was buried beneath here. He took out the Sword of Night and Flame, listened to the dull sounds of battle, and magic surged forth.
"You two, I'm here!"